


Guilty Pleasure

by Essea Aen Carn (Trotzkopf)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Guilty Pleasures, M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trotzkopf/pseuds/Essea%20Aen%20Carn
Summary: Written for a tumblr prompt "What is Emhyr's guilty pleasure?"It's this.
Relationships: Emhyr var Emreis/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115





	Guilty Pleasure

“You do this often?” Geralt asked, ambling down the Kalverstraat in Nilfgaard. 

Emhyr shrugged. “Not as often as I’d like. I’m a very busy man.”

People of all different stations and races walked by and not one spared them even a second glance.

“How come they don’t recognize you? Your portrait is everywhere. And I don’t sense any magic on you.”

Emhyr snorted. “Human or elf. Halfling or dwarf. It boils down to the conviction that the Emperor of Nilfgaard would never just walk down the street of his capital, dressed in simple attire, with no entourage or guards. It’s just not done. That’s common sense. Therefore, that man, who looks a bit familiar, cannot possibly be Emhyr var Emreis.”

“That’s…don’t your staff pitch a fit?”

“Oh, they would, if I deigned to inform them. I usually excuse myself, tell them not to disturb me and sneak out via the kitchen — another place the Emperor would never set foot in.”

“Well, my lips are sealed,” Geralt grinned who against his better judgement rather liked this hitherto undiscovered side of Emhyr. “You’re different here,” he remarked.

“Different?”

Geralt scratched his head, “I dunno. More like a person and less like the unrelenting White Flame who Dances on the Grave of his Foes, I suppose. More man than myth if that makes more sense.”

“I had no idea I had attained mythical status in the North.”

Geralt made a face and wiggled his hand. “More like notorious. But you’re human here among your people, another Nilfgaardian in a crowd of many.”

“And yet, I’m not and never will be,” Emhyr replied as he walked on.

Geralt hadn’t been to Nilfgaard in fifty years and although it was as imposing as ever, it was evident the Emperor had made seamless improvements to the infrastructure. All roads were paved. Each building looked impeccable. Green spaces for leisure activities ran along the Alba. Every square had a fountain, dispensing clean water. Bathhouses, a functioning sewer and a basic healthcare system funded by the treasury ensured public health was at an impossibly high standard from a Northerner’s point of view.

“It’s beautiful.” Geralt said in awe when they stopped on one of the bridges, watching the sun bathe the city in hues of gold.

“It is,” Emhyr agreed. “And now I have to keep it that way. That’s the real challenge. Challenge of a lifetime.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“I’m sure you do, witcher. I’ve come to know you’re smarter than you pretend to be.” Emhyr took a deep breath, eyes still focused on the water. “But it’s a lonely life. No matter how many times I sneak out of my own palace to join my people and remind myself who I’m doing this for, I can never be a part of them. I can only pretend for a few hours, but I enjoy it all the same for as long as it lasts.”

When Geralt didn’t reply, Emhyr turned his head to find Geralt looking right back at him.

“Hm.” Geralt squinted. “I’m sorry, I had to rehash that a few times in my head, considering who had just said that — lonely, few hours, fun times — and since it was you, I have to ask: was that an invitation to your bed?”

Emhyr took a step closer and smirked.

The End


End file.
